


Nightmare Believer

by soulfulsin



Series: Darkly Dawns [3]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: I didn't think I'd write a sequel, and yet here we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-03-09 11:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18915670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: Desperate for some action, Gosalyn enlists Webby on a secret SHUSH mission to fight against Tuskernini, who has his eyes on McDuck Studios. Meanwhile, Mrs. Beakley has some lingering issues from Magica's possession.  Is Magica as gone as they think?On hiatus until further notice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I'd write a sequel, to be honest. I had no inspiration for it and it'd been over two weeks since I'd written the last chapter of this. I started freewriting and it came to me. I hope you guys like it.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the rotten banana peel buried under a pile of papers on the counter of crime that you forgot about! I am Darkwing Duck!”  
  
Darkwing paused, glancing back at Gosalyn. Gosalyn shook her head, tilting her hand this way and that.  
  
“You’re too close to the material,” she said. They were standing in Darkwing’s hideout on the bridge and Gosalyn was procrastinating on the homework she hadn’t told Darkwing she had. In other words, it was a perfectly ordinary Tuesday night.  
  
“Are you sure you don’t have homework?” Darkwing said, arching his eyebrows at her. “On a Tuesday night? That sounds a little suspicious.”  
  
“Pfft, the teachers decided to give us the night off,” Gosalyn lied. “We work too hard, they said.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Darkwing said, not buying it. “And what about that big project you have due on Friday?”  
  
“I’ll do it Thursday night,” she said. “Thursday is two days from now. I have plenty of time.”  
  
“Gosalyn, you need to do your homework.”  
  
“I told you--I don’t have any.”  
  
“I wasn’t hatched yesterday.”  
  
“I know you weren’t; you were hatched during the Jurassic era,” Gosalyn muttered. “You’re a fossil.”  
  
“Take that back!” he huffed and she smirked. Ripping on his vanity always distracted him. Now, if only that homework she had would do itself. Maybe she could rope Honker into doing it for her. Five bucks said he’d do it for her and he’d have her eternal gratitude, up until the next time she didn’t complete it.  
  
“Okay, fine, you’re not a fossil,” she said and paused a beat. “You’re carbon dated.”  
  
“I am not!” Darkwing snapped, stomping his foot.  
  
“Now who’s the mature one?” Gosalyn shot back.  
  
“Do your homework! That’s an order!” he said. “No crimefighting until you’re done--and you’re not paying Honker to do it for you. I got a call about that from your teacher. It’s suspicious when two students hand in the same paper with the same wrong answers.”  
  
“It wouldn’t be if he’d done what I asked him to do,” Gosalyn muttered.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“Nothing, Dad,” she said and affected an innocent look. “Just me talking to myself.”  
  
“Right,” he said and put his helmet on. “I have an appointment with Megavolt. He’s messing with the city’s power grid again. And no phone, no internet, no nothing until you’ve done your homework. Do you hear me?”  
  
“What if I need the internet for homework?” Gosalyn said, the picture of innocence. She batted her eyelashes too for good effect. She’d seen her Nega-self work the room like that. Of course, she didn’t have the sweet personality to match, but maybe she could work it into her manipulation.  
  
“Shouldn’t you already know what you need to do for your homework? And how do I know you’re not going to use it to talk to Webby or look up the answers?”  
  
“Gee, Dad, you have such a low opinion of me,” Gosalyn said. “I’m hurt.”  
  
“All right, all right, I’m sorry. But no phone and no internet,” he said. “That’s final.”  
  
“Jeez, I didn’t do anything and I’m already grounded,” she grumbled.  
  
Darkwing ignored that (or didn’t hear, she wasn’t sure which) and revved up the Ratcatcher. An opening appeared in the side of the lair and he waved goodbye as he drove off. Gosalyn watched him with a twinge of jealousy. It must be so awesome to be an adult and taken seriously. Everyone gave her short shrift because she was only eleven.  
  
She was turning twelve soon. The least people could do was treat her like a lady, if they were going to keep calling her “young lady”. As in, “young lady, don’t you know better than to chew gum and then spit it out on the desk?” Or, “young lady, don’t do that” and “young lady, don’t do this”.  
  
What she wanted was to go on a spy mission of her own. That would prove that she could handle more adult responsibilities. Plus, it’d keep her from doing her homework. Anything that would help with procrastination was all right in her book. Maybe she could rope Webby and the others into helping. Webby had been itching for action too.  
  
She ambled over to the giant computer Darkwing kept in his lair. It looked like it hadn’t been updated since 1991. Pressing a few buttons, she summoned up SHUSH files and scanned them. There had to be an active mission she could tag along on. Yet when she kept poking and prodding at the files, the database shut down on her. Irritated, she kicked the computer and then hopped up and down, howling and clutching her foot. Lousy computer.  
  
“Mister I am the terror that flaps with fruit flies,” Gosalyn muttered. She kicked the computer again, forgetting that she’d already done so, and hopped up and down. Well, that was stupid. It was a good thing no one was around to see that.  
  
The computer screen flickered, showing J. Gander Hooter. Gosalyn fell over and then got back up. She saluted him.  
  
“Gosalyn Mallard reporting for duty!” she announced.  
  
“Er, Gosalyn?” he said, blinking in confusion. “You’re not Darkwing Duck.”  
  
“I could be,” she proposed and ignored her throbbing right foot.  
  
“No, you’re just a child,” he said dismissively. “Where is Darkwing Duck?”  
  
“Beats me,” she said with a shrug. “But I was trained in the orphanage to go on SHUSH missions. I can handle whatever it is you were about to give Darkwing. I promise. Me and Webby.”  
  
“Webbigail Vanderquack?”  
  
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” she said and scoffed. “Is there an echo in here?”  
  
“You’re still only children. It’s far too dangerous. No, it’s better to wait for Darkwing Duck to arrive. When he does, give him these sheets that the fax machine will be printing now.”  
  
Gosalyn looked down. Faxes were also prehistoric. Was her father living in the Stone Age? However, that gave her an idea. J. Gander had never said anything about not looking the pages over herself. And if they just happened to be in the right place at the right time, then how could anyone gainsay them? Gosalyn suppressed an evil grin.  
  
“Give that straight to Darkwing!” he ordered. “I’ll see him later!”  
  
“Not if I don’t see him first,” she muttered. The video conference ended and she read the pages, still warm from the printer. A villain named Tuskerninni had his eye on McDuck Studios. That was in Duckburg. She was practically vibrating with excitement. McDuck Studios was in Webby’s neck of the woods. That was exactly the kickstart they needed.  
  
They were making a film based on Gizmoduck, which seemed like prime real estate to the walrus. Besides which, if Darkwing got wind of this, he’d flip. At this point, Gizmoduck was well established in Duckburg and had a fan following. Darkwing had a cult following if you could call it that. That crazy giant duck wearing all the Darkwing gear certainly was threatening to give Morgana a run for her money.  
  
There was no need to bother her father. She and Webby could totally handle this. And if they needed discreet backup, why look further than Lena and the boys? There was nothing in the article that said that a bunch of kids couldn’t handle it. And really, Darkwing deserved a vacation. Gosalyn, in her magnanimousness, was glad to provide it.  
  
Breaking every rule that Darkwing had set out for her tonight, Gosalyn called up Webby. Unlike Gosalyn, Webby was homeschooled, which meant she shouldn’t have homework. If she did, however, she’d probably have done it already. Webby was prodigious like that. She was always so enthusiastic to get things done. Gosalyn took the slacker’s approach every time.  
  
Oddly enough, Webby wasn’t answering her phone. Oh, well. Gosalyn would leave her a message and then prepare to take down Tuskerninni. Piece of cake. And maybe she’d do a little bit of her homework to throw her dad off the trail. That was a thing, right?  
  
Webby would respond soon enough. She was probably just busy with the boys or Lena. Gosalyn could afford to wait. After all, if Megavolt kept her dad distracted long enough, he wouldn’t even notice she was missing. As for Launchpad, he was in Duckburg for the time being. It was the perfect crime.  
  
She rubbed her palms together and grinned wickedly. This should be fun, provided no adults came in to ruin things. Man, she wished she was older.

* * *

  
  
Lately, Mrs. Beakley had been losing track of time. She considered worrisome, but, as Magica had proven, no one had noticed that she was being possessed until Lena and Scrooge had brought it to light. No one else paid attention to her. She’d been morose ever since Magica had possessed her and then been trapped within the dime. Physically, she bore a few aches and pains from Magica, but mentally, that was another story. In the past, she might have been able to fool herself into believing she had friends, but Magica had laid that bare.  
  
It hadn’t bothered her before that she was a solitary creature. A spy didn’t need friends. Friends only put oneself and others in danger. However, the fact remained that she was no longer a spy. She was a grandmother, a housekeeper, and a bodyguard. None of those roles meant she had any close confidantes. Would Scrooge ever have noticed her condition if Lena hadn’t mentioned it? Of course he would have cared because Magica was his sworn enemy. And yes, she admitted that her employer was stubborn and arrogant, which had led to his not noticing her condition in the first place. Yet aside from him and Launchpad, who else did she have to talk to?  
  
She sighed. She was at the gym and attempting to punch away her problems. Thus far, she had broken two punching bags and accomplished nothing. She had the sense she was forgetting something, but she couldn’t imagine what. After all, her chores having been completed for the day, she had free time now. Normally she would have spent it taking tea, but she disliked being in her head right now. Her head, as she had learned, was a dangerous place to be.  
  
It wasn’t that she was letting Magica get to her, she told herself. After all, what did that sorceress know? Yet she’d brought up valid points and...she could feel her mood slipping again. It’d been dreadful, to begin with, and now she lacked the motivation to continue her assault on the gym’s equipment. The gym owners were probably relieved because she’d stopped destroying their things. She would, of course, pay for what she had ruined. That wasn’t the point.  
  
She had conversations with people in her day to day life. She chatted...but that was all it ever amounted to. Nothing went beyond the surface. Sighing, she went to retrieve her cell phone and discovered a plethora of missed calls. She blinked, realizing that they were all from Webby. Hadn’t she planned something with her granddaughter today?  
  
Well, no matter. Webby would adjust. Dash it all, she could feel her mood sinking into depression. She didn’t normally waste time feeling sorry for herself. After all, what good did that do? Tucking her phone into her shirt pocket, she left the gym. She needed to find another way to spend her time that got her out of the house and, with that, away from memories of Magica in her body.  
  
She couldn’t quite escape the prickly, disgusting feeling of Magica in her skin and the total loss of control, try as she might. Every once in a while, she’d lapse and then it’d slam right back down on her. Magica had taken her body and no one had noticed. Yes, all right, she was depressed and angry.  
  
And then the phone rang again. She tightened her beak, prepared to ignore it; then she saw who it was. She sighed. Webby, she could ignore, though it would cause the girl distress. Mr. McDuck, on the other hand, was not to be disregarded.  
  
Had Webby even noticed her possession? Or had it slipped her mind too, in the way that children often get distracted?

* * *

  
  
Webby had noticed that Mrs. Beakley had been rather distracted of late. Ever since Magica’s possession and then extraction, she’d kept to herself. She didn’t speak very much and it was like a shadow hung over her. Webby knew her grandmother probably wouldn’t confide in her, besides being a very private person and Webby being only a child, but she hoped her grandmother was telling someone was bothering her. She worried about her granny.  
  
At present, her grandmother was supposed to be teaching her about proper defensive techniques, but she’d never shown up. No one knew where she was. It was like she was a ghost in McDuck Manor. Webby shuddered, tempted to call her. Meanwhile, Webby’s phone was going off. She ought to answer it, but she was preoccupied.  
  
When the phone stopped vibrating, she scrolled through her list of contacts to find her grandmother’s number. Gosalyn had left her a voicemail; she would deal with it later. Unfortunately, her grandmother’s lack of response was unnerving. Maybe she ought to talk to Mr. McDuck about this.  
  
She found Scrooge in his office piling coins and glowering at the phone. She didn’t know who was on the other end, but she was pretty sure they were about to get a tongue lashing. She waited until he was done before she stepped forward.  
  
“Mr. McDuck--”  
  
“Call me Uncle Scrooge, lass,” he corrected gently.  
  
“Uncle Scrooge,” she supplemented, feeling oddly out of sorts using that nickname, “have you seen my granny? I can’t get ahold of her and she was supposed to be teaching me lessons this afternoon.”  
  
“Ye know, come to think of it, I haven’t seen Beakley since this mornin’ myself,” he said, shaking his head.  
  
“She’s been odd since Magica possessed her,” Webby added, fighting the temptation to fidget like a small child that has done something wrong. She’d done nothing wrong. She was just...agitated.  
  
“If she calls, I’ll let you know,” he promised and frowned. “That’s not like her, to be missing lessons. I dunno what’s going through her mind.”  
  
“That’s the problem,” Webby said, edging toward the seat in front of his desk but not quite sitting. Instead, she perched atop an armrest. “No one does. She doesn’t talk to anyone except you and even that’s just business. I don’t think Granny has any friends…”  
  
“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “There’s...well, and then there’s...curse me kilts, you’re right.”  
  
“But if she’s not going to meet friends, then where is she going?” Webby asked.  
  
“I donnae know,” Scrooge said. He glared at his cell phone and then dialed Beakley’s number. Webby waited with bated breath. If her grandmother didn’t answer Webby, surely she would answer Scrooge. He was, after all, her employer.  
  
“Beakley, where are you?” he asked. He didn’t put her on speaker, which meant Webby was waiting on tenterhooks trying to figure out what was being said.  
  
“Yer granddaughter is worried about ye.”  
  
He was silent for a moment and Webby’s anxiety kicked into high gear. What was her grandmother saying? She wished she were as close to Mrs. Beakley as Gosalyn was to Drake Mallard. Of course, Mrs. Beakley wasn’t an open person, but still, she felt she had the right to information. Mrs. Beakley had adopted her, after all.  
  
“O’course I noticed something was wrong!” he said, sounding defensive. “Beakley, it’s been two weeks. She’s gone now.”  
  
Magica. Webby’s feathers prickled. This all had to do with that sorceress. Lena hadn’t recovered from her yet, either, but then again, Magica had tormented Lena for years. When Lena wasn’t “on”, she often hid away, keeping everyone at arm’s length. Trust was a serious issue for the teenager.  
  
“Aye, of course I know that. Why bring it up at all if you’re not concerned about it?”  
  
“Because she is!” Webby burst out. “Lemme talk to her!”  
  
“Not now, Webbigail,” he chastised. He grimaced. “She wants to talk to you.”  
  
He held out the phone.  
  
“Granny, are you okay?” Webby asked, taking it.  
  
“I’m sorry, Webby. Time’s simply slipping away from me these days.”  
  
“Is it possible that Magica still has her hooks in you and you don’t know it?” Webby asked.  
  
Mrs. Beakley was silent for a long moment, so long that Webby feared they’d been disconnected. This was, after all, an old cell phone. Who used a flip phone anymore?  
  
“I certainly hope not,” Mrs. Beakley said at last. There seemed to be more she wasn’t saying and Webby ached for the divide between them.  
  
“I’ll be home soon,” she promised. “Don’t worry.”  
  
That wasn’t why she was worried. She needed to go find Lena and quickly. Thanking Uncle Scrooge for allowing her to talk to Mrs. Beakley, she dashed off for Lena.  
  
Lena, it appeared, was not in her usual haunts. She found the teenager in, of all places, Webby’s loft. Lena was curled in on herself, looking thoroughly miserable. She’d been reading a book but it lay forgotten nearby.  
  
“Lena?” Webby queried.  
  
“Oh, hey, pink,” Lena said and her facade fell into place. “What’s up?”  
  
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one in my room…” Webby pointed out.  
  
“Sorry about that,” Lena said, jumping to her feet. “I can leave.”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Webby said. “Sit down. Look, I wanted to ask you something.”  
  
“Is it about Magica?”  
  
“Um…”  
  
“It’s about Magica,” Lena said and sighed. “Of course it is. Why should I have even thought anything different?”  
  
“You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” Webby offered and sat beside her. Lena flicked her own hair.  
  
“It’s fine,” Lena said in a tone that indicated the exact opposite. “What is it?”  
  
“Is it possible that Magica left something behind after she was exorcised from Granny? Like, a magical spell or the ability to step back in?” Webby blurted.  
  
Lena was silent, mulling this over. “I mean, I guess anything is possible. Why do you ask?”  
  
“Because Granny’s been losing track of time and not keeping appointments and she’s been weird since Magica.”  
  
“Being with Magica will do that to you,” Lena said. She cast her gaze downward and Webby hugged her impulsively. Lena, startled, hugged her back. It felt to Webby like Lena needed the hug more than she was willing to admit.  
  
“But you think it’s possible?” Webby persisted. She sat back on the bed.  
  
“As I said, pink, anything’s possible. I can look into it with my amulet if you want.”  
  
Webby nodded. “I’d appreciate it.”  
  
“Hey, Webs?” Lena said after a minute. “I hope you’re wrong. Because if she can seize control again, there’s no telling what she might do this time.”  
  
“I know…”  
  
Lena balled her fists. “Trust me. You have no idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t figure out why I had a headache and couldn’t focus on writing. It turns out it’s because it’s been storming every day for the past three days and it’s hard to write when you have a stress headache. Ugh. -_-
> 
> Also, this chapter is uneven and the first part kinda sucks, imo. Sorry. I tried writing it with a headache.

As a matter of fact, Magica might partially reside in the dime, but her consciousness lurked within Mrs. Beakley. The fight with Scrooge had taken more out of her than she’d have admitted were she to speak to someone else. Impotent and weak, she bided her time. Mrs. Beakley was upset and her turbulent emotions made it easy to manipulate her. Magica could possess her for short periods of time, which she was putting to good use through magical research. This was the source of the “lost time” Mrs. Beakley complained about.  
  
She hadn’t even worked to isolate the older duck. Beakley did it all on her own. The old bird was nursing her wounds and hadn’t confided in anyone, not that she had anyone to confide in. Unfortunately, Magica had no way of regaining full control. She needed to find a new host; when she wasn’t possessing Beakley, she was stuck in the shadow realm. The shadow realm sucked big time.  
  
This situation was far from ideal and Magica wanted it rectified. More than that, she wanted to crush Lena’s throat for betraying her. When Mrs. Beakley was in control, Magica lurked, watching Lena and Webby.  
  
Lena wasn’t adjusting well to freedom. Magica found it amusing. An errant touch caused the former shadow to flinch. Loud noises startled her. She anticipated verbal abuse all the time and hid away when she felt vulnerable. Webby was working at rectifying that and Magica hoped she failed. She hoped Lena continued to suffer. If she couldn’t personally attack her, then she wanted her specter to linger. She wanted her words to echo in Lena’s head every day and remind her of her failure.  
  
It was the least she could do.  
  


* * *

  
  
Mrs. Beakley sequestered herself in her room. She’d failed Webby once today and she didn’t intend to compound that mistake. Webby was lingering nearby; she could feel her granddaughter hesitate. It was funny--a while ago, she’d been calling her Agent 22. She’d not been close to her and there’d been a brief window when they had reconciled that difference. Now, however, she didn’t see them bridging that gap. There was something wrong, something indefinable, and Mrs. Beakley did not want to upset Webby by revealing what she feared. The child didn’t need that hanging over her head.  
  
Webby knocked on the door and Mrs. Beakley sighed. She owed her granddaughter an apology and an explanation. However, telling her the truth was out of the question. Besides which, she knew Webby well enough to know that she’d take it to extremes. Still, she had to come up with something to tell her. Blowing her off again was unacceptable.  
  
She’d dithered too long. Webby knocked again, hesitant again.  
  
“Granny?” she ventured and then when that didn’t yield a response, murmured, “Agent 22?”  
  
So they were back to that again. Mrs. Beakley suppressed another sigh. She deserved it after the way she’d been pushing her back. Reluctantly, she opened the door. Her room was slightly disordered, which was unusual for her. Webby would probably notice and she felt the shadow of something snort in amusement. It was gone within an instant, short enough for her to trick herself into believing she’d imagined it.  
  
“Are you okay? You missed our training session and you’ve been rather aloof. Did I do something +-wrong?”  
  
Mrs. Beakley knelt by Webby’s side. “No, of course not, dear.”  
  
“Uncle Scrooge didn’t know where you’d gone either. If it’s not me, then what is it? Is Magica back?”  
  
“No,” she said. It was technically true if what Mrs. Beakley suspected was accurate. Magica couldn’t be ‘back’ because she’d never left. Besides, this was too heavy for a child to deal with. Webby ought to be training for SHUSH--although, on the other hand, that was the sort of thing that a SHUSH agent might be grappling with. She was at a crossroads.  
  
“What’s going on? Is it some super secret SHUSH mission that you can’t tell anyone about?”  
  
That would’ve been the easy way out of this discussion and she was tempted to take it. However, to do so would be to lie to Webby, who didn’t deserve it, as well as treat her more like a child than she already was accustomed to. Bentina had sworn she wouldn’t do that. That left the hard road, which she supposed she’d already been heading toward anyway.  
  
“Has Lena been able to detect Magica?” she asked, sharper than she’d intended, and Webby looked simultaneously guilty and concerned.  
  
“I...I asked her about it. She said she’d keep an eye out, but she doesn’t like to,” Webby said. “You said Magica was gone.”  
  
“No, dear. I said Magica wasn’t back.”  
  
Webby stared. She’d get it. She was a bright girl. Clever turns of phrases wouldn’t stymie her. It would’ve confused Dewey for sure and possibly Huey for a moment, but not Webby or Louie. They’d know in a half a minute, at most. Sure enough, she saw dawning comprehension and horror strike Webby’s features.  
  
“She’s not back because she never left,” Webby breathed. “But I thought we exorcised her! She shouldn’t have any power! You’re not...you’re not her right now, are you? I mean, not that you’d tell me, but…”  
  
She glowered at Mrs. Beakley. “Where are you hiding, you bad baddie? What are you doing to my granny?”  
  
“She’s not here at the moment,” Bentina said gently. She decided it’d be best if she didn’t give too many incriminating details. Webby was alerted as it was. Was Magica right? Did Mrs. Beakley only have her adopted granddaughter and Scrooge McDuck as confidantes and even then, not that much? Her shoulders sank. Magica was probably right, which made it hurt all the more.  
  
“We have to tell Uncle Scrooge right away,” she said and tugged on Mrs. Beakley’s hand.  
  
“No, we don’t,” she said and at once knew this was the decision Magica would have advocated for. Or insisted on, considering her personality. In Webby’s hip pocket, her phone played the opening theme to a cartoon Mrs. Beakley didn’t recognize. It sounded like someone was calling her, which was either divine providence or extremely good timing.  
  
Webby ignored it.  
  
“I can handle this myself.”  
  
“But Mr. McDuck--”  
  
“Need not be troubled with this,” she answered and Webby frowned, cocking her head. Her phone continued to play its little ditty and Webby continued to disregard it.  
  
“You need help,” she protested. “Oh, I know! Lena and I can research magical lure and see if we can extract Magica that way.”  
  
She was sure she was well-intentioned, although it was giving her a bit of a headache. In truth, she didn’t know how to extract Magica. However, this would keep Webby (and Lena) occupied. It also might involve delving into dangerous magical spells. Why was everything turning out into such terrible extremes?  
  
“If you find anything remotely dangerous, I want you to tell me right away,” she warned. “I don’t want you meddling with something that could hurt you, Webby.”  
  
“I promise,” Webby said and smiled, relieved. She hugged Mrs. Beakley and the older duck had a strange flash of attacking Webby. She shuddered, knowing that for what it was. There had to be a way to fix this without risking Webby’s safety. And if it meant keeping Webby at arm’s length, then she’d do it.  
  
Even if that was exactly what Magica wanted.  
  
“Granny?” Webby inquired after releasing her. “Are you okay?”  
  
She sighed. “When I tell you to, you’ll need to excuse me.”  
  
“I wish I could smack her out of you myself,” Webby muttered and then flashed her grandmother a brilliant smile. “But Lena and I will fix this. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
She bounded off, presumably to do just that, and Mrs. Beakley slumped.  
  
 _“That’s exactly what I want,”_ Magica thought and Mrs. Beakley shuddered again, wishing, like Webby, that she could take the sorceress’s claws out of her. Maybe it was time to tell Scrooge. She’d been holding off on it the last time and that hadn’t done much good.  
  
There had to be a way to keep her at bay before she could exact her vengeance. Damnable woman. Scrooge had so many curses and jinxes over his head thanks to his adventuring days that he could hardly fail to have an amulet or charm that would keep Magica away.  
  
It was like having a demon inside of you, almost exactly like that. She should have realized that Magica wouldn’t have relinquished her grip once she’d found what she considered a suitable host. The only other possibilities for hosts would’ve been the children.  
  
All of this ruminating was getting her nowhere. She was sitting here, thinking to herself instead of taking action. Huffing, she pushed herself back on her feet and headed for Scrooge’s office. Judging by the voices emanating from within, Webby had reached him before her. Mrs. Beakley would rather have given him the news herself instead of through an intermediary and she felt a flash of disconnected irritation that she squashed. It was odd to have emotional flashes that didn’t belong to you. It made her feel like an alien.  
  
She had better run damage control. Steeling herself for an encounter, she marched into Scrooge’s office. Lena was there too, although she was rather quiet and pale. The older teen was rocking back and forth in her sneakers and when she caught Mrs. Beakley’s gaze, she flinched. Mrs. Beakley belatedly remembered Magica attacking her in her body and suppressed a sigh. No, she didn’t blame the child for fearing her.  
  
“I’m sure I can rustle up something to ward Magica off in the meantime…” Scrooge was saying when she’d entered. “Oh. Beakley.”  
  
“I had wanted to tell you before children did, but it appears I was too slow,” she said apologetically.  
  
“Nonsense, Beakley. Ye should have come to me straight away.”  
  
His eyes narrowed. “However, if Magica is still connected to ye, I may have to let you take a vacation...just for a few days while I follow up some leads.”  
  
Magica hissed in her mind and Mrs. Beakley nodded.  
  
“I completely agree, Mr. McDuck,” she said firmly, regardless of how her companion in her mind felt about it. Bloody witch.  
  
“Good,” he said and then examined her. “Ye could use the rest anyway, Beakley. Fightin’ Magica can’t be too good for ye.”  
  
She nodded, swallowing hard. She deserved this. On the one hand, she could stand to have more rest and on the other, she’d be subject to too much sensitive information otherwise.  
  
“With that settled…” Scrooge said and glowered at Webby. “I don’t want ye pokin’ around in dangerous magic, Webbigail.”  
  
“Told you,” Lena said quietly and then cringed at Mrs. Beakley’s attention. Mrs. Beakley raised her hand to reassure her and Lena stepped back, shuddering. She thought she was going to hit her. Webby hadn’t failed to notice either and stepped defensively before her friend. It stung.  
  
“If that’s all…?” Scrooge said, paying close attention to Lena too. Lena looked like she wanted to hide in a corner.  
  
“That’s all,” Webby reassured him and took Lena’s hand. She squeezed it and smiled at Lena. Lena attempted a reciprocating smile that looked painful.  
  
They left, all except for Mrs. Beakley who lingered.  
  
“Bentina, ye cannae keep this information to yourself all the time,” he chastised. “Ye’re hurtin’ more than just yourself.”  
  
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I care about ye. Webbigail cares about ye. Heck, even Launchpad probably cares a little. Don’t beat yourself up.  
  
“I know how that witch works. She’ll try to get inside yer head an’ make you believe anythin’ she says because she enjoys tormentin’ people. Donnae let her get away with it. And for heaven’s sake, yer not an island.”  
  
He patted her on the shoulders. “Pack yer bags. I’ll arrange a vacation on a cruise ship somewhere far from here. Donnae worry.”  
  
“You don’t have to do that--” she protested.  
  
“Of course I do,” he said and she read the intention behind his words. With her on a cruise ship, Magica’s powers would be limited. She hoped that’d be enough. And she hoped Magica didn’t come up with a plan to counteract Scrooge’s schemes…

* * *

  
  
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Gosalyn grumbled. She glared at her cell phone as if it were its fault that Webby wasn’t responding. She’d have to go over there in person and talk to her sister. Unfortunately, Darkwing Duck was out and Launchpad was nowhere near, probably at McDuck Manor. It was a pretty far walk from St. Canard to Duckburg, not to mention that McDuck Manor was at the very back of town. Plus, she’d have to hire an Uber and she didn’t have money.  
  
“Oh my god, just pick up the phone already!” she snapped. It’d gone to voicemail several times and she’d left Webby messages, as well as texting her. It didn’t seem like she was getting the hint.  
  
There had to be another way for her to catch a ride into town that didn’t involve wheedling people or paying. She couldn’t drive--her feet could barely reach the pedals. She supposed she could bike ride. After all, Darkwing wouldn’t notice she was gone for so long and it might be her only mode of transportation. Of course, a car would be faster, but she didn’t see that she had any alternative.  
  
Huffing, she got her bike out, as well as the helmet (she could just hear her father admonishing her for not taking safety seriously), and wheeled out from the house. Hopefully, she remembered how to get to McDuck Manor from here. It was approaching nightfall--she’d better pedal fast if she hoped to avoid being out after dark in St. Canard. Duckburg had its own crime racket, but St. Canard was infamous for it. She didn’t want to run into Quackerjack or Megavolt after dark.  
  
While she pedaled, she kept the phone on speaker. It was still dialing and she grew weary of listening to it ring. At an intersection and the stoplight, she growled and pulled out her phone from its basket in front of her bike.  
  
“Answer your goddamn phone, Webby!” she snapped and then looked around guiltily, worried that someone was going to call her out on cursing. It wasn’t really cursing, but it was close enough that she’d probably get in trouble for it if her father heard it. Never mind that she’d heard her father say way worse, but apparently, it was acceptable for adults to curse, not children.  
  
Aggravated, she muttered imprecations under her breath when the light changed to green. Overhead, the sky was darkening ominously. While Megavolt had electrical powers and did occasionally leave St. Canard in the dark, shutting out the sun was different. It’d been sunny a moment ago--where had all of these clouds come from?  
  
Thunder boomed, startling her, and she looked up as big, fat raindrops came down. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. Then again, maybe she could beat the rain into Duckburg. Of course, her legs were already burning from the pressure of pedaling as it was, but she was positive she could beat the weather.  
  
To her surprise, her phone rang while she was pedaling toward the bridge. She pulled over and yanked out her phone. She didn’t recognize the number and then, when she answered, she groaned. It was a spam call. It wasn’t Webby at all.  
  
Pausing meant that the weather had a chance to catch up and she was soon pelted with cold, frigid drops. Within minutes, she was soaked. She glanced up at one of the towers on the bridge and sighed. She’d have to take shelter in the hideout. Maybe when she was there, she could call for a ride.  
  
Thunder boomed, so loud that it shook her and chattered her teeth. With haste, she rushed up toward the hideout. By the time she reached it, her feathers were stuck to her shirt and her sneakers squelched as she plopped into Darkwing’s chair. Eh, he could dry it out later, when it’d stopped raining. She wasn’t overly concerned.  
  
Her phone rang again and if it was a spam call, she swore she was going to scream.  
  
But, no, this time, it was Webby.  
  
“Why didn’t you answer?!” Gosalyn snapped before Webby had a chance to draw breath. “I left you, like, five messages, fifteen missed calls, a bunch of texts--what are you doing that’s so important?”  
  
“Magica still has Granny in her clutches,” Webby blurted. “Lena and I’ve been researching--”  
  
“Tuskerninni’s in Duckburg!” Gosalyn blurted. In her defense, she’d been sitting on that for a while. She couldn’t have held it back if she’d wanted to.  
  
“He’s interested in McDuck Studios because they’re doing a biopic on Gizmoduck,” Gosalyn added.  
  
“That’s…” Webby faltered.  
  
“Sorry,” Gosalyn said. “But you wouldn’t answer your phone and it doesn’t look like you looked at your messages.”  
  
“Uncle Scrooge is sending Granny out on a cruise and she’s gone already,” Webby said, sounding morose. At once, Gosalyn felt guilty for having put herself first. True, this FOWL business was important, but she hadn’t meant to make Webby feel like her news was insignificant. Her dad said she was always doing this. She got overeager.  
  
“Is she okay?” Gosalyn said in a hushed voice.  
  
“I don’t know. Granny won’t tell me anything. It’s like she’s back into her Agent 22 guise. Does Darkwing Duck do that?”  
  
“No,” she said and felt even guiltier. “How long has this been going on?”  
  
“Ever since Magica possessed Granny and then we thought she was gone,” Webby said. “We were close for a while and then she pushed me away again. I guess she was doing it to protect me.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling like the words were inadequate. “Why didn’t you say something before?”  
  
“You’ve been busy too,” she pointed out. “Haven’t you been training for SHUSH with Darkwing?”  
  
“And with his girlfriend.” Gosalyn rolled her eyes. “I’m still not sold on Morgana, even if Dad’s forgiven her.”  
  
“See? Don’t feel bad.”  
  
Gosalyn growled. Webby was putting her feelings to the side for someone else again. She thought she heard Lena in the background say, “Seriously, pink?”  
  
“Tuskerninni’s not as important as this,” Gosalyn protested.  
  
“But he’s going after Uncle Scrooge.”  
  
“Since when do you call him that?”  
  
“Since he told me to.” Gosalyn could hear the shrug in Webby’s voice.  
  
“What do we do?” Gosalyn asked. There was no doubt about it. She intended to help her sister in anyway she could. After all, they were sisters. They’d even taken a blood oath years ago, which made it official. They had each other’s blood running through their veins. Okay, maybe it didn’t work like that, but in Gosalyn’s mind, it did.  
  
“If Granny’s away, then we have some time,” Webby said and swallowed hard. “I hope.”  
  
“She’ll be okay.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Lena scoffed. Gosalyn wasn’t certain whether she was replying to Webby or her.  
  
“We’ll figure this out,” Gosalyn said, determined to be positive and encouraging in place of Lena’s pessimism. Then again, if she’d been attached to an evil harpy for fifteen years, she probably wouldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows either.  
  
“I’d have come over there, but it’s pouring here,” Gosalyn added.  
  
“Really? That’s weird. It’s sunny here…” Webby said, frowning. “Maybe we’re due for a storm, though. This is the first time the sun’s come out all day.”  
  
“I tried biking in this, but--”  
  
Thunder boomed and Gosalyn grimaced. “See? Or, hear, I mean.”  
  
“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry about us. We’ll figure something out.”  
  
“I’m still coming over there once it stops raining or when Darkwing shows up. Whether you like it or not,” Gosalyn mock-threatened.  
  
“I’d love to see you,” Webby replied and she could hear the smile in her sister’s voice.  
  
With that settled, Gosalyn was abruptly aware of her sodden state. She didn’t have any clothes in the hideout, probably because her father didn’t want to encourage her to move in here. Therefore, she’d have to wear something of her father’s. She didn’t mind, even if it’d swim on her. Better to be wearing something huge than something that you could wring out.  
  
After she hung up with Webby, she left a mess behind her while she searched for clean clothes. Darkwing Duck could clean that up later. Or, in all likelihood, he’d make her do it. But that was a problem for future Gosalyn.  
  
She felt ridiculous in Darkwing’s get-up, complete with the hat, but if she was going to do this thing, she’d do it properly. The hat was absolutely necessary.  
  
She was sure that Mrs. Beakley would be fine. That was what she told Gosalyn, wasn’t it? And she wanted to believe it, for both their sakes.  
  
Maybe she could cosplay as Darkwing Duck while she was wearing this. She smirked. LARP, anyone? It was a shame Webby was in Duckburg. She’d have loved someone to play the villain. She was sure Webby could be formidable if she was pushed too far.  
  
Throwing back her head, Gosalyn cackled and then stopped. No, that just sounded weird. She’d leave villainy to the criminals.  
  
She guessed she had nothing to do but chill here in the meanwhile. She definitely had homework she was avoiding again, but oh well. Homework was for Honker and nerds. She would coast by with whatever she could get away with.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh, the DuckTales side of this is much stronger than the DWD side. It doesn’t help that my overall impression of Tuskernini is that he’s a two-bit villain. -_- 
> 
> So that half of it is a little short. Sorry.
> 
> Also, this is later than the other updates because it wasn't written until today. ^^

The first thing she needed to do was remain off the radar and out of contact. If Scrooge thought she was on a cruise and isolated from Duckburg, then Magica needed to disappear with Beakley and make it look like that had happened. As a disembodied spirit, Magica mulled this over, doing the equivalent of chewing on the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t control Mrs. Beakley for long and too much taxed her. Whatever she did would have to be quick and decisive.   
  
She needed that blasted dime. She needed to be able to move about with impunity and not be encumbered by the hulking flesh she required in place of a subtler host. Her window of grabbing the dime was running increasingly short. She could kill Scrooge and take the dime off his neck; she was sure that Beakley had the brute strength required. Unfortunately, while Magica missed carnage, she couldn’t quite bring herself to contemplate killing him in full detail, premeditated. Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure the dime would work if he was dead, so that was something else to consider.  
  
She might be able to possess Lena and use the shadow to steal the dime. Hatred for the shadow coursed through her, especially considering how they were treating her. What was the point in behaving like Lena was a child worthy of attention and affection? She wasn’t. She was made of magic, a magical construct, and nothing more. To treat her otherwise was to give her more credit than she deserved; than it deserved.   
  
Being that close to Lena again made her proverbial hackles raise and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to control her if the shadow fought back. Beakley was only possible for brief periods of time and that was because she had no magical knowledge to counter with. But Beakley had the subtlety of a brick to the head. Magica fumed.  
  
She could take Scrooge. Would his family notice?   
  
Yes. Probably. Damn it. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place and not in an enjoyable sense, either. If she adhered to Scrooge’s precious schedule, then she’d be away from the dime and unable to resurrect her form. If she didn’t, Beakley would more than likely be caught in the act of pilfering the dime and reap the consequences.   
  
Black lights flashed before her vision and Magica gasped, falling to her knees. There was something else to consider. Even for a shade, she was weak. Spending too much time near the manor, considering Scrooge’s magical defenses, was assaulting her magical wards. He didn’t realize it, but he might be able to cast Magica out of Beakley by the constant use of his defenses. She wouldn’t be able to push the light magic away forever.  
  
In the shadow realm, she assessed her surroundings. She couldn’t get up off the floor. This would have been embarrassing had anyone been around to see. Duckworth might be able to perceive her, as a phantasm, but she doubted it. He would have alerted Scrooge long before now if that was the case.  
  
Beakley was packing her belongings and Magica hissed, feeling as weak as a newborn kitten. These attacks had been infrequent after her separation from Lena but had grown worse and worse. She was losing track of time too and it terrified her. Scrooge might actually destroy her one of these days and she doubted he’d feel the slightest remorse. The clans of de Spell and McDuck had been at war for so long that her death might be seen as a sort of victory. The thought lined her mouth with bile or would have if she’d had a corporeal form.  
  
Or maybe he’d feel bad since he was technically good and she was evil. She didn’t want to think about it because it meant she’d have to contemplate a world without her in it.  
  
A black feather drifted to the floor and Magica blinked. That didn’t belong here. It almost looked like...but it couldn’t be. Unable to touch it, she nonetheless inched closer to it. Sudden longing perceived her and she realized that she might have a chance at another body after all, if the feather belonged to who she thought it did.   
  
It was a raven’s feather and when Magica glanced up, she saw the raven staring at her from Beakley’s bedroom window. Beakley hadn’t noticed the bird, but the faint magical aura surrounding him had captivated Magica. Only one raven she could think of bore such a distinctive aura.   
  
Poe de Spell. Her brother, lamentably weak when it came to magic, but far superior to Beakley. Of course, being stuck in a raven form was rather inhibiting. Still, it was a choice between that and destruction by attrition. Poe, if indeed that was who it was, cocked his head at her from the windowsill. The window was open and he hopped closer to her shadow form.  
  
He could see her. She could have wept. Well, she could have if she were predisposed to such displays of weakness like Lena. Magica sneered thinking of how the shadow had nightmares and then lied about them to feign strength she didn’t possess. She should have destroyed the shadow when she had the chance.  
  
But Poe, on the other hand, Poe could be useful. Poe didn’t budge, though his bright black eyes shone like buttons. With an effort, she heaved herself to her feet and then collapsed onto the bed. The last time she’d been this weak had been right after they’d “exorcised” her. This didn’t bode well.  
  
Poe didn’t speak. Perhaps he feared drawing attention to himself. Perhaps he wasn’t Poe at all but another raven and she was losing her mind. The latter was possible, especially considering what she’d endured the last few weeks, but unlikely. No, no other ravens had such an alluring magical aura. It had to be him. She would accept no other explanation.  
  
Mrs. Beakley was talking to herself and Magica and Poe ignored her. She hadn’t seen her sibling in years, though he was, as she had expected, still stuck in that raven form from a spell that had gone awry. She had always meant to change him back and then, well, things had happened. Clearly, Poe had survived this long and she’d like to think it was due to the de Spell cunning.   
  
Her elation at seeing him ebbed slightly. He was glaring at her. It was possible he held a grudge against her for being trapped in the raven form for, what? More than fifteen years? Well, she couldn’t have helped it. She’d had her own grudge match going on.   
  
It seemed to take Beakley forever to finish packing. She swept her gaze across the room, but, unlike Poe, couldn’t discern Magica there. Magica was regaining her fortitude and sat on the bed, or, rather, attempted to sit on the bed. She couldn’t actually touch anything in the shadow realm.   
  
Poe could steal the dime for her. He could swoop in, nip it off Scrooge’s neck, and deliver it to her. Of course, she’d need a corporeal form to be able to channel its power. She assessed Poe again. That might suffice, at least for the time being.  
  
Poe’s glare intensified as if he could divine her thoughts. When Mrs. Beakley’s glance landed upon the windowsill, he ducked down and then reappeared after she nodded to herself, apparently satisfied that everything was in order. Why should he conceal himself from Beakley? It wasn’t like she’d know him for what he was. Mrs. Beakley hadn’t been working for Scrooge prior to the duel between Magica and Scrooge. She wouldn’t have known who Poe was, in all likelihood.  
  
Of course, there was a chance that the brat Webby might, seeing as she’d studied up on McDuck lore. Magica seethed. Webby was another complication she didn’t need. Of course, if it hadn’t been for the brat, Magica would never have escaped, so she supposed she owed her one. Fine, when she had her body back, she’d kill her last. That was about as far as Magica was willing to go with concessions.  
  
When they were alone and Magica could sense Mrs. Beakley lingering, Magica turned to Poe. Technically speaking, while she inhabited the shadow realm, she could only be separated by a certain distance from her host. The tether between them would snap if she let it extend too far and either her soul would be lost forever in the shadow realm or she’d be flung back at Beakley. Magica wasn’t sure which would happen as it wasn’t a theory she particularly cared to test.   
  
It seemed like Poe was waiting for her to make the first move. His glower intensified and she sighed. What did he expect her to say? How aware was he of the last fifteen years? Surely if he knew that she’d been held captive in Scrooge’s stupid bin, he’d offer her sympathy? It wasn’t like she’d asked to be saddled to a recalcitrant, obnoxious, idiotic teenager.  
  
Poe inched closer and then when he was within arm’s reach, he pecked viciously at her. She hissed as his beak went through her.  
  
“Do you mind?” she snapped. She hated when people and things passed through her. It reminded her of her current predicament and brought home the fact that she was stuck like this until she restored herself to her former glory.  
  
“Fifteen years, Magica,” Poe snapped back. “I’ve been stuck as a raven for fifteen. Years.”  
  
“Don’t act like my life’s been all cheery either,” she countered. “I’ve been trapped in the vault for fifteen years. It’s not like I could have sprung you.”  
  
“You have only yourself to blame for that. You shouldn’t have antagonized Scrooge McDuck. I warned you.”  
  
“He’s our ancestral enemy!” she huffed, outraged that he wasn’t taking her side. They were family. Since when did family turn on each other?   
  
“And he had the advantage that night,” Poe continued, implacable. “You want my help, don’t you, sister? Why should I help you?”  
  
“Because we’re family!” she exploded. “Because you owe me. Because you need me to regain your form. I don’t know, pick a reason!”  
  
Poe cocked his head at her and regarded her for a long moment before, finally, inclining his head. It felt like a weight had lifted off her chest. She sighed, shaking herself off and willing the chills away. It was always freezing in the shadow realm. It was, after all, the land of purgatory.  
  
“I’ll help you. But I want you to promise me one thing, Magica.”  
  
She would’ve promised him the moon if he asked, just to get her way. Whatever it was, she’d see whether she intended to follow through later, once she’d gotten what she wanted.  
  
“Once this is all over, you will leave clan McDuck alone. No revenge schemes, no attempts to hurt someone who lives in this manor. And yes, that includes your shadow.”  
  
“Yes, fine, whatever. Do we have a deal?” she asked and offered him her hand, though they couldn’t shake on it. She couldn’t touch anything, after all.  
  
“Don’t blow me off. I want your solemn promise and no funny business. If you don’t, I’ll simply walk uaway. I’ve lived as a raven for fifteen years. I have an unnaturally long lifespan, apparently. I’d rather die as a raven than be betrayed by my sister again.”  
  
She was a little hurt that he’d accused her of deliberately harming him. She was also uneasy with his accusation. Unable to meet his gaze now, she said quietly, “I promise.”  
  
She was disquieted. Of everyone, Poe should have believed in her. That he didn’t, for some reason, didn’t induce anger but rather depression. He was the only person that should have been guaranteed to be on her side and he wasn’t. And she had no one to blame but herself.  
  
For what it was worth, she was sorry to have wronged him. She wasn’t going to admit to it aloud, but she felt remorseful.   
  
“I’ll help,” he promised. “Tell me what you need me to do.”  
  
She couldn’t muster a smile. This was what she had wanted all along and yet, the price seemed too steep to be borne. Nonetheless, aware that her time might be limited depending on whether she could remain here for longer than a few minutes due to Beakley’s movements, she nodded and launched into her plans. Poe would have to enact them without her present. It seemed that like it or not, Magica was about to take a cruise.  
  
\-------  
  
Tuskernini was not impressed with this studio’s production values. For a studio run by Scrooge McDuck, the budgets were appallingly low. Even this piece, which was an unusual venture for him, had a comparatively small budget. He hadn’t met Gizmoduck either, but he hadn’t expected to see him in person. Instead, an unknown was playing him. It was high past time that Tuskernini hijacked this sad production before it languished in purgatory prior to vanishing entirely. It’d end up in the dollar bin of a supermarket unless Tuskernini handled it himself.  
  
He swept his contemptuous gaze over the assembled crew and cast. They were terrified of him, mostly because he’d come in here with guns blazing, and was now holding them hostage. It wasn’t his fault. If no one knew how to act, then they clearly needed remedial lessons and the only way to ensure they stuck was to keep them here.  
  
He wasn’t being cruel. At least, he hoped he wasn’t. He wasn’t as evil as someone like, say, Steelbeak. He just wanted to ensure that he had Scrooge McDuck’s attention and that, as the new producer, he received his due credit and money for turning around this trainwreck. His name ought to be in lights.   
  
There was also a small matter of an ancient movie camera secreted about the studio. It was worth a fortune and once Tuskernini had it and this biopic well in hand, then he’d depart. Unfortunately, the crew persisted telling him that they didn’t know where it was and if they did, they wouldn’t tell him. It was quite annoying. Did they expect to win any brownie points with him for lying?  
  
He knew it was only a matter of time before someone, like perhaps the real Gizmoduck, showed up to put a damper on his activities. Darkwing Duck was unlikely--St. Canard was his playground, not Duckburg. This was Gizmoduck’s territory, plain and simple. And having the real Gizmoduck here would surely convince his hostages that he was serious.  
  
He wasn’t a murderer, however, which he sensed they knew. He was a thief and obsessed with the movies, but he wasn’t all that threatening. And that was a problem. They could smell weakness. If he’d had the clout of the big time villains, like Negaduck, they would be cowering before him instead of breaking out into little groups to discuss tactics. His henchmen broke up the conversations before they grew too productive, but it was no use. They simply reformed.  
  
As much as he hated to admit it, he might need someone else’s help. Negaduck was out--after Morgana had thrashed him a few months back, he wasn’t showing his face around St. Canard. Tuskernini knew he was down, but not out, but he’d never agree to work with him anyway. He had nothing Negaduck wanted and besides which, his unwillingness to kill innocent people would disgust Negaduck, who had no problem with collateral damage.  
  
He racked his brains for someone else who might want in. Money was always an enticement for the Fearsome Four, but they had their own chicanery too. Quackerjack would want toys, of which this movie studio was short. Bushroot would want to deal with plants. Megavolt was a possibility--every movie studio had its fair share of power tools to play with. (Liquidator would have absolutely no interest in this--not unless he got to ham it up and even then, he’d probably write it off). The problem with Megavolt was twofold. One, although this was a movie studio and there was a lot of electricity to be found, it wasn’t the primary attraction. Was there a way in which Tuskernini could make it that way?  
  
The other problem was that Megavolt seldom left St. Canard. Like Darkwing Duck, he was local. Also, he had this weird relationship with the caped crusader not unlike the Joker and Batman without the undertones. He’d have to construct one whopper of an enticement to draw Megavolt in.  
  
His eyes alighted upon the replicated Gizmoduck suit. It was powered by someone’s brain, although in the case of Elmer Sputterspark, that’d probably be doomed from the get-go. Still, Megavolt might find it entertaining, at least for a little while. That was all he needed. Megavolt was insane enough to incite fear and with fear, the others would fall in line.  
  
He was so glad he lived in the age of technology and computers. He’d confiscated all smart phones and watches upon entering McDuck Studios, but he had access to computers and phones on his own. He sent a message out to Megavolt, assuming that he wasn’t too busy romancing a light bulb or something similarly inane. It was a shame Tuskernini couldn’t think of any other decent villains with a body count. (Not that Megavolt had intended to kill anyone--he was the opposite of Negaduck in that regard.)  
  
Insane people were hard to predict, which made them both an asset and a liability. Tuskernini hoped it’d be the former and not the latter.   
  
What he could do, though he was loath to try it, was step back and return to McDuck Studios once he had a stronger foothold. Unfortunately, there was no guarantee he’d be allowed back on set. Scrooge McDuck would probably up his security after seeing what Tuskernini was capable of. If he left now, he’d probably lose everything. Curses.  
  
No, he’d do better to wait and see if Megavolt got back to him, no matter how impatient he was growing for some action. He’d tear the studio apart himself if that was what it took to locate the movie camera. And woe be to anyone that stood in his way.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Gosalyn, what are you doing here?” Darkwing said and frowned. “Are you dragging my cape on the floor?”  
  
“You couldn’t expect me to keep wearing my dirty clothes now, could you?” she asked. Darkwing cast a pointed gaze at the clothes littering the hideout’s floor. She offered him a wry smile and his glare kicked up a notch. It wasn’t working.   
  
“What’s the matter? Bad date?” she asked.  
  
“You shouldn’t have been out of the house,” he snapped.  
  
“Bad date.”  
  
“Duck, darling, what’s taking so long?” Morgana called and Gosalyn’s grin turned sly.  
  
“Am I interrupting something?” Gosalyn asked innocently.  
  
“No, you are not ‘interrupting something’,” Darkwing snapped. “You are just leaving.”  
  
“But you wouldn’t send your only daughter out into the cold, wet world, now, would you? Without an escort? In a storm?” Gosalyn asked, batting her eyelashes. “How could you be so cruel? I thought you loved me.”  
  
Darkwing swallowed back something nasty and it looked like he’d been force fed medicine. Morgana came around the corner and put her hands on Darkwing’s shoulders. It must’ve been for her benefit that he’d throttled his temper, albeit with difficulty.  
  
“Gosalyn,” Morgana said, stopping abruptly. “This is a surprise.”  
  
“You’re not kidding,” Gosalyn muttered. She hadn’t quite forgiven Morgana for betraying Darkwing, even if it’d been under Negaduck’s compulsion. Webby kept insisting that Morgana hadn’t wanted to hurt him and Gosalyn wanted to be a good enough person to believe her, but she wasn’t. So she didn’t.   
  
“Am I interrupting something?” Morgana asked.  
  
“No, she was just leaving,” Darkwing growled. “Weren’t you, sweetie?”  
  
“I dunno,” Gosalyn said, feigning recalcitrance. “I mean, it’s storming out there. And you can’t expect me to bike ride to McDuck Manor on my own, can you? In this?”  
  
“We can give her a ride,” Morgana said. Morgana wanted to get back in Gosalyn’s good graces and Gosalyn was more than willing to allow her to do that if it meant that she’d get what she wanted.  
  
“All right, fine, I’ll give you a ride,” Darkwing said, throwing his hands in the air. “Get your stuff. And change out of that. You’re getting dirt all over my new cape.”  
  
Gosalyn smirked. “Anything you say, Dad.”  
  
She headed for his small bedroom and then halted when he called out to her. The anger had faded from his voice.  
  
“How is Webby?”   
  
“And how is Mrs. Beakley?” Morgana added.  
  
That reminded her. She’d forgotten something very important. For a few seconds, it refused to come to her. Then it dawned on her with a sinking sensation in her stomach. She turned around and the hat drooped into her eyes. She pushed it aside carelessly.  
  
“Webby says that Mrs. Beakley might still be linked to Magica de Spell,” Gosalyn said quietly. “She thinks she never actually left.”  
  
Whatever traces of irritation Darkwing had with Gosalyn fled. He knelt at his daughter’s side. “Is there anything we can do?”  
  
“I might be able to try another spell…” Morgana mused. “Perhaps the timing was off. I was still addled from Negaduck’s compulsions.”  
  
“I don’t want you to overtax yourself, honey,” Darkwing said and then frowned. “Or turn anyone into a yak. Again.”  
  
“Hey, maybe Magica would leave if Mrs. Beakley got turned into pudding!” Gosalyn suggested.  
  
“That’s a thought…” Morgana mused, looking like she was giving the idea serious consideration. Darkwing sputtered.  
  
“No, it is not!” he said. “We’ll take you over to McDuck Manor and then we’ll talk to Mrs. Beakley. But no one is turning anyone else into anything else, including food!”  
  
“Whatever you say, Dad.”  
  
Morgana and Darkwing exchanged a look Gos couldn’t quite decipher. It must’ve been something adult that she wasn’t privy to, which was annoying. Gosalyn almost blurted out about Tuskernini at McDuck Studios, but held her tongue. If they were going to keep secrets from her, then she was going to keep them from them too. It was only fair. And if the mentality sounded a little childish, oh well. What could you expect? She was a child, after all.  
  
“Let’s go,” Darkwing said after his silent conversation with his girlfriend was done. “Let’s get this over with.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not proofread (as usual), so any mistakes are my own. XD Also...
> 
> I had to stop writing because I ran out of steam. XD Also, it’s supposed to start raining soon and I brought my laptop out of the house without putting it in a bag. I’m brilliant, I know. -_-
> 
> EDIT: I'm posting this here, as well as on my other fanfics. I'm going on a hiatus. I need to focus on my original works and DuckTales fanfics are keeping me from doing that. I'll probably still update, but it won't be anywhere near as frequently. Maybe once every two to three weeks, once a month tops.

Megavolt wasn’t romancing a lightbulb. Instead, the mole was swooning over the newest power plant installed in Duckburg. It ran on hydroelectric power and was much cleaner than the previous one. He didn’t care about that, however. All he cared about was output. That baby could juice more than a few circuits if you know what I mean. He rubbed his palms together gleefully.  
  
His phone vibrated and he hissed. How dare someone interrupt his moment. Who had his number, anyway? Until the phone vibrated, he’d forgotten he’d owned one. Little things tended to slip his mind. Big things slipped his mind too if he was perfectly honest. At best, his memory was patchy.  
  
The phone was still vibrating and he yanked it off his toolbelt. The number didn’t look familiar, although he’d been getting a lot of spam calls lately, so he wasn’t surprised. Ready to snap at the poor soul daring to call his attention away, he answered.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Ah, Megavolt. I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”  
  
“Who are you?” Megavolt said. “What’s with the stupid accent?”  
  
“You don’t recognize me?” The male voice on the other end sighed, sounding exasperated. “How could you not have heard of me? Darkwing Duck’s heard of me.”  
  
“You’re not Darkwing Duck. And I have more important things to do than chew the fat with a random telemarketer. Goodbye.”  
  
“No, wait! I’m not a telemarketer! I am Tuskernini!”  
  
“Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.”  
  
“Tuskernini. I specialize in movie and television productions. I believe in art for art’s sake. Surely your memory’s been jogged by now.”  
  
“Gonna take a lot more than that. Look, I’ll call you back when I care.”  
  
With that, he was about to hit the ‘end call’ button on his phone when Tuskernini cried, “Stop! I have an offer for you!”  
  
Megavolt put the phone back to his ear. “I’m listening.”  
  
“How would you like to work with me on a movie production at McDuck Studios?” he asked and Megavolt heard the desperation. He was amused by it, though it wasn’t enough to hook him, not yet. It was enough to keep him from hanging up and that was about it.  
  
“You would have access to all the electricity there and it is connected to the new power plant,” he continued.  _That_  piqued Megavolt’s interest. Straightening from his position where he’d been overlooking the falls that helped power the hydroelectric plant, he put the barrier to his back. He was almost amazed Tuskernini could hear him over the roar of the falls behind him. All that power, all that potential. He was surprised Liquidator hadn’t hopped over to Duckburg because of the water. He and Liquidator never hung out; it was always him and Quackerjack and Liquidator and Bushroot.  
  
(No one, of course, hung out with Negaduck in their off hours).  
  
“You don’t say,” Megavolt said casually, smiling. “Complete control over the electricity?”  
  
“There is also a mock-up of the Gizmoduck suit, which is powered by the brain,” Tuskernini continued. “If you would like to play with that.”  
  
“Sold!” Megavolt cheered, practically bouncing on the balls of his heels. “I’ll be right there!”  
  
He’d never committed crimes in Duckburg before. This was a whole new playground. Of course, he assumed that Tuskernini would want something in exchange for his assistance, but he wouldn’t worry about that now. As always, the future was a distant spark compared to the present.  
  
“In exchange,” Tuskernini continued, sensing that Megavolt’s attention was drifting, “I need you to help me keep the captives from revolting, overthrowing me, and escaping.”  
  
Megavolt scoffed. “I can do that no problem. Now, about that suit...do you know how it hooks up into the brain? What its power outputs are? What kind of demands does it make on the body? What the dimensions of a person might be to fit in there?”  
  
“Er…”  
  
That meant ‘no’. Megavolt brushed that off. He’d worry about it later, then, like everything else.  
  
“Tuskernini, baby, you’re killing me.”  
  
“How soon can you be here?”  
  
Yeah, he was definitely desperate. If Megavolt had a little more brains and a little less impetuosity, he might’ve been tempted to toy with Tuskernini and see where it took him. Negaduck would have felt him out. Megavolt wasn’t good with artifice. What you saw was what you got.  
  
“How far is the studio from the power plant? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”  
  
“Assuming your ADD doesn’t kick in,” Tuskernini grumbled.  
  
“What was that?” Megavolt demanded.  
  
“Nothing, nothing,” Tuskernini said hurriedly. “Come as soon as you can.”  
  
Hanging up, Megavolt shoved the cell phone back into his belt. Man, he didn’t know what he’d done without that toolbelt and the cell phone. The internet brought such great wonders and abilities to tweak electricity. The water roaring drew his attention again and he stared as it churned, frothing white. It was hypnotic. He could stand here all day and watch it.  
  
Wasn’t there something else he was supposed to be doing? It’d slipped his mind. Oh, well. Shrugging, Megavolt stared overhead at the power lines. Yes, it was something, something important. A movie studio, maybe? But what did Megavolt have to do with movies? This wasn’t a fantasy where he’d killed Darkwing Duck and was trying for the movie rights.  
  
Confused, he gazed at the structure before him with its turbines. Movies...McDuck Studios...like Megavolt was stupid enough to tangle with Scrooge McDuck. No one was that stupid, except maybe the Beagle Boys and Magica de Spell. Magica de Spell. That reminded him. He hadn’t seen Morgana around lately, not after she’d socked Negaduck. He couldn’t say that Negaduck hadn’t deserved it for getting in between Darkwing and Morgana.  
  
(The problem, as Tuskernini was about to find out, was that Megavolt’s thoughts didn’t follow a logical pattern. For that matter, when his mind drifted, it seldom returned to its previous track. The shocks he’d gotten over his life had scrambled his thought processes).  
  
Heh, Darkwing Dork. He hadn’t seen  _him_  around lately either. He’d been spending time in Duckburg. Duckburg. That was where Megavolt was, wasn’t it? Why was he here again? He’d forgotten.  
  
Oh, right, the power plant. Tuskernini? The walrus popped into his mind and he huffed. Tuskernini had nothing to do with anything. Except...he did.  
  
What had he been thinking about before? McDuck Studios? His gaze followed the power lines as they trailed out over the city. Somewhere in that congested mess was McDuck Studios and there was Tuskernini. He wasn’t sure why the villain was in Duckburg, especially when this wasn’t his usual haunt. He hadn’t exactly explained that, had he? Or had he and Megavolt didn’t recall? His short term memory was often on the fritz.  
  
When he looked at his phone, a half hour had passed with him just standing there, thinking. The phone vibrated again--it was Tuskernini.  
  
“Talk to me, baby.”  
  
“You got distracted again, didn’t you?” Tuskernini groaned.  
  
“I’ll be right there. But why are you here?”  
  
“McDuck Studios is botching a movie and besides, there are artifacts here that I cannot procure from anywhere else, ancient movie cameras and the like. Why do you care?”  
  
The walrus was back to sounding exasperated and Megavolt smiled.  
  
“I wanted to know. Jeez, curiosity never killed anybody.”  
  
“I believe curiosity killed the cat.”  
  
“But satisfaction brought it back.”  
  
“Is that how that line goes?” Tuskernini was contemplative. “Well, whatever. Get here. I will keep calling you until you arrive here.”  
  
Megavolt heard a ruckus behind the villain and he recalled belatedly that Tuskernini had said something about a possible uprising. Perhaps he’d better stop procrastinating and get over there before things got worse. Or before he lost his opportunity to play with the expensive electrical toys. He grinned. That sounded like fun. Why hadn’t he gone first thing?  
  
“Be right there,” he promised and this time, he meant it. He wouldn’t let anything distract him from getting there. Even if it meant he’d have to somehow rein in his ADD. He would get there and he’d show everyone the foolishness of keeping him from his beloved electricity. They abused it in all the wrong ways. He’d abuse it in all the right ways.  
  
It didn’t take long to locate the studios, although getting in was another story. It seemed someone had called the Duckburg Police Department and they were having a stand-off with Tuskernini. Megavolt hung back, wanting to avoid capture. This was problematic. Hmm. He could always hide behind a shrub, though subterfuge was not his strong suit. He normally liked to launch himself straight into a situation, but if he did that here, he’d be arrested on the spot and questions asked later. The police tended to harbor a grudge against him just because he’d electrocuted one of them once. It’d been an accident!  
  
There were fewer cops near the studio’s rear and he crept through the foliage. The bushes were scratchy and he had to wriggle on his stomach to avoid notice. Since the DPD was concentrated on the front gates, however, he managed to evade notice, slip inside the studio, and then realize he had no idea where he was going.  
  
There were multiple lots back here. Moreover, Tuskernini hadn’t narrowed it down for him. Megavolt wanted to pull out his phone to call him and demand more information, but he’d forgotten his number. Plus, the cops were lurking nearby and he didn’t want to risk being overheard. He’d have to check all the lots and see who was where.  
  
He just hoped it didn’t take as long as he suspected it would. Because if it did, he would not be a happy camper. It could take hours to go through all the lots and find where Tuskernini was hunkering down. Stupid rich McDuck. Why couldn’t he be poor like everyone else? Or use his money to enrich people instead of...ooh, a brand new extension cord leading to a powerful surge protector. No, focus. He was here for a reason and it wasn’t to admire the scenery, though that was part of it.  
  
He had a mission and he was going to complete it, come hell or high water. Or the high seas. Wow, those were some fake looking waves on his right. He thought movie magic was supposed to be expensive, not scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of special effects.  
  
Where was McDuck spending his money if not on his studio?  
  


* * *

  
  
She supposed, after having saved up all her vacation days and sick leave, Mr. McDuck owed her a nice cruise. She wanted to enjoy it, but her stomach had been roiling all day. Seeing Lena made rage flare up and she knew it was Magica, even if the sorceress hadn’t condescended to speak to Bentina. The worst part was that the rage was homicidal and focused on Lena, Webby, and Webby’s best friend/sister Gosalyn. It sickened Bentina and there was nothing she could do about it.  
  
Webby had promised they were looking into it and she had no choice but to believe her, because the alternative, being stuck with Magica forever, was unthinkable. Of course, Webby didn’t know the extent of Magica’s power over Mrs. Beakley, even now. Bentina had no intention of telling her granddaughter that. She didn’t want to worry her more or cause her to freak out. Lena had taken to avoiding rooms that Mrs. Beakley was in and when she was forced to be in the same room, she stood with her back to the wall and looking like she was about to fight or fly. Needless to say, she wasn’t making a good impression on the teenager.  
  
Then there was the fact there was a random raven hanging around Mrs. Beakley’s room now. Mrs. Beakley didn’t recognize it (should she?), yet when she encountered it, the fury subsided temporarily and was replaced by melancholy. Bentina had no idea what might have incited that, as Magica was the last person she would have expected to be stricken by sadness.  
  
Nonetheless, she found it ominous. She knew that whatever money Mr. McDuck had shelled out for the cruise would be a waste because she’d never step foot on that boat. The worst part was she had no idea what Magica was plotting. She was as in the dark as she’d been before.  
  
It was wreaking havoc with her self-esteem. Magica was determined to keep her from telling Scrooge or anyone else, too. So Bentina suffered in silence. She was stoic. She was British. She had a handle on this. She didn’t need friends or confidantes. She didn’t need--oh, who was she kidding? Yes, she did. Everyone did. No man is an island.  
  
She had no idea what to do about any of this. Sighing, she stared at the TV without seeing it. Well, she hoped the girls were having a better go of it than she was.  
  


* * *

  
  
“So far, all we’ve found are things that don’t work,” Gosalyn complained.  
  
“We could always ask Morgana--” Webby suggested and Gosalyn shot her a dirty look. Gosalyn still bore a grudge against her father’s girlfriend for betraying him, even if it hadn’t been her idea. Webby thought that if she’d been coerced into doing it, then it wasn’t her fault. Lena didn’t seem to have an opinion, at least not on that. But ever since they’d learned that Magica had never left the manor, Lena had grown waspish and unpredictable. Webby could tell she was running on anxiety.  
  
“We have to ask someone,” Webby pointed out. “None of us know what we’re doing.”  
  
“I’m all for banishing Magica, pink,” Lena said. They were gathered in the attic with magic books surrounding them. Since they’d come from the Duckburg Public Library, Lena had regarded them with casual disdain. She hadn’t thought that anything available to the public would contain what they wanted. So far, Lena’s supposition had proven accurate.  
  
“As much as I hate to admit it, though, Gosalyn’s right. We don’t know if we can trust Morgana.”  
  
“She hasn’t done anything and she beat the crud out of Negaduck after she recovered,” Webby said, finding herself defending Morgana against her sister. “Besides, we have to start somewhere. And Morgana knows more than we do. Plus, why would she help Magica?”  
  
Lena frowned. “No one has a reason to help Magica.”  
  
She shuddered and Webby put a hand on her shoulder. Lena glanced at it; Webby got the impression that touch was a foreign concept for her. After a moment, she pulled Lena into a tight hug and rested her chin on her shoulder. Lena smiled, though a shudder went through her again.  
  
“She didn’t hurt Darkwing,” Webby pushed. “And everything turned out okay, didn’t it?”  
  
“Well, yes,” Gosalyn admitted begrudgingly. “But what if she changes back? What if she decides she’d rather be a villain?”  
  
“She  _was_ a villain,” Webby pointed out. “And even then, she didn’t hurt your dad. She loves him.”  
  
“Or claims she does,” Gosalyn said, stubborn.  
  
“It can’t hurt to ask, can it?” Webby continued.  
  
Gosalyn shot her a withering look, particularly because she knew she was wearing her down. There weren’t any decent arguments and she knew it. Instead, waving her hand and looking irritated, she gestured for Webby to call Morgana. Webby shook her head in response.  
  
“Magic and tech don’t mix, remember?” Webby said.  
  
“Then I guess we wait for Dad and her to get back from their date,” Gosalyn said and rolled her eyes. “He really wanted to be alone with her. They’ll probably be busy for a while.”  
  
Lena snorted and Webby looked at her curiously. Despite being trapped within the vault for the past fifteen years, Lena mysteriously knew more about adults than they did. She wasn’t sure how to countenance it. It didn’t make any sense to her, but then again, Webby could be oblivious. The teenager stretched out on the floor.  
  
“What do you think they’re doing, anyway?” Webby asked.  
  
It was Gosalyn’s turn to snort. “Probably kissing a lot. Gross.”  
  
They were silent for a while. Lena picked up a book and paged through it in a desultory manner. She sighed, tossing the book aside.  
  
“It makes me wish I’d listened to Magica’s lectures. Almost. She complained a lot--I had to tune it out after a while,” Lena said.  
  
“How did she lose her body, anyway?” Gosalyn asked.  
  
“She and Scrooge were fighting on Mount Vesuvius, where her base was. It was the night of the eclipse and he wound up sucking her into his number one dime,” Webby said.  
  
“But she had the dime. Why wasn’t she freed then?” Gosalyn persisted.  
  
“There’s something else at work,” Lena answered and self-consciously flicked her pink floof stripe aside. Webby loved that pink stripe.  
  
“Scrooge must’ve put another layer of protection over her regaining her body or her spell backfired so tremendously when she fought him that she needs additional help,” Lena continued. “When Scrooge sucked her into his dime, her shadow disengaged and she used her remaining magic to create me with her as my shadow until she could regain her form. Scrooge panicked and threw us both in the Bin.”  
  
“How do you not hate him?” Gosalyn asked, wrinkling her beak. “He imprisoned you.”  
  
“Thanks for the reminder,” Lena said sourly. She hugged her knees. “I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of the adults.”  
  
She stretched out, perhaps realizing she’d revealed too much vulnerability. “They’re all liars.”  
  
Webby wanted to defend her grandmother, but given what had happened earlier, maybe she had better not. Mrs. Beakley was becoming more like Agent 22 again and less like her foster grandmother. It reminded Webby of the lonely days she and Gosalyn had spent at the orphanage and her stomach clenched. Her gaze landed on the floor. While she was grateful for a place to live, new clothes, and family, she didn’t feel as connected to the others as she might have wished. The boys were supposed to be like siblings, but she wouldn’t exactly quantify them like that. As for her foster grandmother...she didn’t know where she fit in with her. She didn’t feel the love she’d always desired.  
  
“You have that look on your face,” Gosalyn informed Webby and she lifted her head to regard her sister.  
  
“What look?” Webby asked flatly.  
  
“The one that says you’re suffering silently.”  
  
“Why don’t we go back to the library?” Lena announced loudly, sparing Webby the necessity of responding. She cast Webby a sympathetic look that told Webby the older girl had spent a lot of time trapped in her head and understood where she was coming from. Webby’s stomach clenched again. What Lena had endured was far worse.  
  
“We haven’t gone in the restricted section yet or whatever you nerds call it,” Lena continued.  
  
“You two can do that,” Gosalyn said. “I’ll call Dad and see if he can bring Morgana along.”  
  
She pulled out her phone and then frowned at it. “That’s weird...do you guys have service?”  
  
Webby and Lena took out their phones as well. While Webby was connected to McDuck Manor’s wifi (which one of the boys had set up, probably Huey or Louie), she had no bars on her cell phone. Lena’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“No, we don’t,” Lena answered.  
  
The lights flickered overhead, stayed on, and then died entirely. They stared at each other in the dark. Lena put her phone on flashlight mode and kept it dim to avoid blinding anyone. Gosalyn glanced out the window as if she could see anything from there. McDuck Manor was too far away to see what was transpiring in Duckburg, which was how Uncle Scrooge liked it.  
  
“Power fluctuations mean Megavolt, but what would he be doing here?” Gosalyn mused. “He lives in St. Canard with us.”  
  
“What’s he doing that he knocked the entire town off the grid?” Lena grumbled.  
  
“Mr. McDuck had a biopic in the works about Gizmoduck…” Webby said and Gosalyn cursed. Lena smirked and Webby’s eyes widened. While she’d known that Gosalyn had an extensive vocabulary, she didn’t normally swear.  
  
“Tuskernini! That’s gotta be it!” she said. “Tuskernini recruited Megavolt and now they’re messing with the town’s power grid! We’ve gotta call Darkwing! Tuskernini’s probably at McDuck Studios right now!”  
  
“Oh, right, Tuskernini,” Webby said flatly. Gosalyn had told her about him and she’d let it slip her mind, considering Magica and her grandmother. Lena put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“We can’t call Darkwing without reception,” Lena said wryly.  
  
Gosalyn cursed again.  
  
“You keep that up, kid, and we’re gonna need to wash your mouth out,” Lena remarked, amused.  
  
“Then we need to figure out where Dad and Morgana went and crash their date!” Gosalyn announced.  
  
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Lena said, shaking her head. “They might be doing more than kissing. Do you even know where they are?”  
  
“They probably went back to the Bridge,” Gosalyn scoffed. “And what else is there?”  
  
Lena burst out laughing. “You two are so naive, it’s adorable.”  
  
“But he has to know!” Gosalyn pressed, unperturbed. “We have to tell him. And if the phone lines are down, then we need to get there in person.”  
  
“We’ll have to ask Launchpad to take us,” Webby said, all the while aware they were pushing her grandmother to the backburner again. She wanted to say she wasn’t upset, but that wouldn’t be true. However, she had a lot of experience in putting other people’s needs ahead of hers, even when it hurt her. Especially when it hurt her. Sometimes, Gosalyn would reprimand her for it. However, Gosalyn was acting selfishly, she didn’t notice. This was the latter case.  
  
“What about your grandmother, pink?” Lena asked.  
  
Webby flashed Lena a smile she didn’t feel. “It’s no big deal. It can wait.”  
  
“I’m not so sure that it can,” Lena said and although part of Webby was annoyed at putting Gosalyn off on her quest, another was buoyed by Lena’s confirmation that they needed to work on the problem before them first. She hugged Lena and Lena nearly fell over.  
  
“Not much of a hugger,” Lena warned her.  
  
“Right, right,” Webby said, backing off. “Neither am I. I mean, who hugs people nowadays?”  
  
“You’re a giant liar,” Gosalyn informed her sister.  
  
“When is your grandmother supposed to leave on that cruise?” Lena asked.  
  
“Uh...the ship leaves tomorrow from Cape Suzette,” Webby said.  
  
“Then we don’t have much time,” Lena confirmed.  
  
“And the power?” Gosalyn huffed. “We have an entire day to stop Magica de Spell.”  
  
“You’re assuming that she’s not going to skip town before tomorrow morning,” Lena pointed out. “Since when do villains play by the rules?”  
  
Stymied, Gosalyn appealed mutely to Webby who had nothing to say. She glanced back at Lena and her throat was tight.  
  
“What if she’s gone now?” Webby queried. “We didn’t bother to check and it’s not like we’re actively keeping tabs on her. Can you sense Magica?”  
  
Lena shuddered but nodded. She closed her eyes, hand on her amulet.  
  
“She’s still here. And so is someone else.”  
  
“Someone else? Morgana?” Gosalyn asked.  
  
“No,” Lena said. “I don’t know who this is. It’s a weak magical signature, but it’s there. It feels like Magica but that’s not quite right. I don’t know how else to describe it.”  
  
“Can you pinpoint where it is?” Webby pressed and Lena nodded.  
  
“We should check it out,” Gosalyn said. She wasn’t pressing about going to McDuck Studios, which Webby appreciated. Then again, though Gosalyn was self-absorbed at times, not to mention arrogant (rather like Darkwing Duck), she wasn’t insensitive to people’s needs when push came to shove. And Webby knew that Gosalyn, regardless of her faults, loved her very much.  
  
Lena led them through the hallways. The backup generator kicked in and she stowed her phone for the time being. That was probably for the best since Lena was walking about with her hand on her amulet and her eyes closed. They halted in front of an unfamiliar room. (To be fair, most of the rooms were unfamiliar to Webby, who hadn’t spent that much time in the manor. The boys knew it better than she did).  
  
Webby pushed the door open and Lena opened her eyes. Sitting on the floor was a raven.  
  
“Was that what you were expecting to find?” Gosalyn asked. “Because I gotta tell you, I was expecting something more than that.”  
  
“No, that’s it,” Lena said. “But I don’t understand how.”  
  
“Hello, Lena,” the raven said. It ducked its head and cast a glance over the room at something only it could see. Webby’s heart thudded and she inched closer to Lena. Gosalyn did likewise.  
  
“It’s a talking raven. Reminds me of Eek and Squeak, Morgana’s familiars. Is this Magica’s familiar?” Gosalyn asked and Lena shook her head.  
  
“I’m not her familiar,” the raven said. “I’m her brother. Poe.”  
  
He craned his neck in the other direction.  
  
“What are you looking for?” Gosalyn asked.  
  
“Magica’s around here,” Poe answered and Lena’s jaw tightened.  
  
“I know,” Lena said. “Could you tell us where? Or at least how to get her to leave Webby’s granny alone?”  
  
Poe shook his head and then, without warning, took off through the window. Gosalyn flung herself at him and squashed him against the floor. Squawking in indignation, Poe smacked her in the face with his wing. Webby and Lena thronged Gosalyn to prevent Poe’s egress.  
  
“Magica’s coming!” Poe protested.  
  
“So? Stop her!” Gosalyn shot back.  
  
“I don’t have that kind of power. She’s been wandering in the shadow realm,” Poe said and the color drained from Lena’s face.  
  
“She could be anywhere. That explains why I couldn’t pin her down earlier,” Lena whispered.  
  
“How did she turn her own brother into a raven?” Gosalyn asked.  
  
“A spell went wrong. That was why she needed Scrooge’s number one dime, to change me back. At least, that was the original plan. Now she’s looking out for herself. As usual.”  
  
Poe groaned.  
  
“Maybe Morgana can help,” Gosalyn admitted, albeit reluctantly. “But that means we have to find her and Darkwing.”  
  
“And so we’re back to that again,” Lena said. She glanced at Webby. “Are you okay with this, pink?”  
  
Webby nodded. She had to be, didn’t she? It didn’t look like there was an alternative.  
  
“All right, well...let’s go,” Webby said, even if they didn’t have the first idea where they were going.  
  



	5. Chapter 5

It was a nice, romantic interlude without any interruptions in the form of crime-fighting or children clamoring for attention. It was pleasant. It was calming. It was unsettling. Something was afoot and it made it impossible to fully relax. Morgana and Darkwing both felt it. They were currently within his hideout and kissing, though they also kept getting distracted and looking out the window. Darkwing leaped up a minute later and pointed at Duckburg in the distance.  
  
“Aha! I knew it! I knew there was villainy afoot!” Darkwing cried. Morgana rolled her eyes. She’d expected something like this, but that didn’t mean she embraced it.  _“I am the supervillain who trashes your romantic night…”_  
  
“It looks like the power is out all over Duckburg, which can mean only one villain—Megavolt,” Darkwing continued. “But...what’s he doing over there? He normally stays here. He doesn’t like to travel.”  
  
“Maybe he’s after Gizmoduck and wanted to give you a break,” she suggested, but even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t right. Moreover, mentioning Gizmoduck was a sure way to kill an evening. She had a brief but amusing mental image of Gizmoduck and Darkwing both romancing her and competing to see who was doing it better.  
  
“Gizmoduck?” Darkwing squawked, outraged. “He would swap me for Gizmoduck?”  
  
“Well, you know, a change of pace,” Morgana said weakly.  
  
“You wouldn’t swap me for Gizmoduck, would you?” he demanded, acting like the very idea was an affront. “I’m way better than that tin-plated buffoon.”  
  
“Of course you are, Dark,” she said, soothing his ruffled feathers. “I never said you weren’t.”  
  
“You just said Megavolt would prefer Gizmoduck over me!” he said and puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know that I’m way better than Gizmoduck. At everything.”  
  
Morgana cocked her eyebrows. She couldn’t resist. “Everything?”  
  
“Yes, everything!” he snapped, waspish.  
  
“Even…” she leaned and whispered something into his ear. He blushed scarlet and she grinned, stepping back. For a minute, he was too flustered to speak. She put his hands on her hips and brushed her beak against his. For a split second, she remembered Negaduck and she banished him to a far corner of her mind. Maybe if she was lucky, she could distract Darkwing enough that she could have a decent date for a few minutes.  
  
“Or how about…” she whispered something else and he was so red he could’ve given a tomato a run for its money.  
  
“I don’t know if even  _I_  could do that,” Darkwing admitted, crimson. “You might need to show me.”  
  
“I can show you if you can stop looking out the window every few minutes,” she promised. Darkwing, right on cue, glanced back at Duckburg. She groaned, facepalming. Why had she opened up her big mouth? She’d been doing well up until that point. And she could sense he was interested in the way he was leaning into her.  
  
“No can do, babe,” he said. “Duckburg needs me. So, uh, rain check?”  
  
“So much for my romantic evening,” she grumbled. It looked like she would be entertaining herself tonight.  
  
“Aw, Morg, don’t take it that way,” he protested and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”  
  
“Duckburg isn’t even your territory,” she protested. She knew she ought to just let him go, but she was having a hard time doing that. For all intents and purposes, she thought she was going to get a night alone with him without Gosalyn or villains hijacking their plans. And she had needs too.  
  
“But Megavolt is there…” he whined, sounding like a child being denied his favorite toy. She sighed, relenting. If she stopped him, then he wouldn’t be Darkwing Duck, would he? He’d be another citizen letting crimes happen and he wouldn’t be the duck she loved. It was so frustrating, though. Just once, she’d like him to be Drake Mallard and stay on a date with her instead of leaving to fight and protect the city.  
  
“You’re really upset with me, aren’t you?” Darkwing said when she hadn’t spoken for a few minutes. “I’ll buy you flowers. I’ll buy you chocolate. I’ll...I’ll even get you jewelry. I promise. I’ll do whatever you want on Saturday afternoon, okay? Anything.”  
  
“Just go,” she said, waving her hands. She was hurt, to be honest, though she preferred not to show it. They had both known entering into this relationship that she’d have to make sacrifices. Of course, the irony that they seemed to be predominantly on her end hadn’t been lost on her.  
  
“I don’t wanna leave if you’re upset with me…”  
  
Morgana plastered on a smile that hurt her beak. “Go. I’ll wait here.”  
  
“You might wanna go home,” he admitted. “This could take a while.”  
  
She sighed. Naturally, it could. Sometimes she thought he was married to his crimefighting and she was his mistress. Perhaps some of that showed on her face because he frowned too. He cupped her cheek in his palm. Her eyes flashed.  
  
“You could come with me?” he suggested. “I mean, it’s not much of a romantic rendezvous, but you wouldn’t be stuck here waiting.”  
  
She weighed her options. If she remained here, she’d probably curl up with a book and spend the night reading while he tangled with Megavolt. Conversely, if she went along, she might be able to help. Moreover, she knew that there was a chance Gosalyn had gone to visit her sister in Duckburg. She needed to try to make amends with Gosalyn if it was possible. Gos was one stubborn kid.  
  
“All right,” she decided. “I’ll come.”  
  
She followed him to the Ratcatcher and rather than riding in the sidecar, hugged him from behind after donning her helmet. He revved his engine once and then sped off along the bridge’s pylons until he reached the elevator, which lowered them to the ground. Once there, he raced off toward Duckburg. As he did, he handed her his cell phone. She frowned.  
  
“Dark? You know what happens when I have technology at my fingertips…”  
  
“I can’t call Gosalyn--I’m driving. But I have a feeling she’s not sitting at home and doing her homework.”  
  
“You’d hardly have to call her for that,” Morgana pointed out. “It’s unlikely she’s sitting still anywhere, much less doing her homework.”  
  
“You’re right,” he sighed.  
  
“Also…” she added as they entered Duckburg proper, “you have no service.”  
  
“No service, eh? That’s strange. The last time I was in Duckburg, I had all five bars,” he said, shaking his head. When they stopped at a stoplight, she offered him the phone back. It took him a second to realize that the light wasn’t going to change to green because the stoplights were all powered down. He must’ve thought it was red without actually looking up. She facepalmed.  
  
“Dark?” she said a split second before the Beagle Boys’ getaway van plowed into them and sent them flying. She used her magic to slow their fall and lower them gently back to the pavement. Her eyes flashed and Darking whirled. Before they had a chance to retaliate, the Beagle Boys sped off, presumably with their ill-begotten loot. With the power down, a lot of security systems were probably likewise out of commission.  
  
It was eerie to drive through the city with no power. No one lingered on the streets, either, and a pall had fallen over Duckburg. The only sound was the Ratcatcher as it made its rounds. Darkwing was headed for the power plant since that was the most likely place for Megavolt to be.  
  
Other creatures with magical powers, such as Megavolt and Bushroot, had a distinct aura on the astral plane. As such, she could detect them, provided there wasn’t too much outside interference. She reached out toward the power plant to determine whether Megavolt was indeed holed up there but before she could, the equivalent of a magical claw slashed at her defenses. She hissed, grabbing Darkwing tightly.  
  
“Morgana?” he asked, turning slightly. He’d stopped at a stop sign and was checking both ways before crossing.  
  
“Magica de Spell,” Morgana spat the name like a curse. “She’s around here and she’s mucking up my magical senses.”  
  
“I thought you banished her,” Darkwing said as they sped off.  
  
“I thought I did too,” she grumbled. “She’s weaker than she was.”  
  
Magica winked out on the astral plane. It was not like she’d perished but like she was too weak to maintain her presence there. Morgana would worry about that later. Right now, their core concern was why the phones and power were down in Duckburg. Even hitting the power company shouldn’t have shut off satellite reception.  
  
“Is she a threat?” he asked, meaning--” is she an immediate concern?” Morgana shook her head.  
  
They arrived at the power plant, but Megavolt wasn’t there, preening about his latest achievement. However, a large cable was running from the power plant to a few streets distant, which Darkwing followed to McDuck Studios. Normally an open, inviting place, McDuck Studios had a forcefield around it now.  
  
“That’s new, I’m betting,” Darkwing commented.  
  
“Not magical,” she replied, shaking her head. Darkwing reached out a hand to touch it, perhaps to determine the barrier’s strength, and then yelped. She smelled roasted duck and some of his feathers came off. She refrained from rolling her eyes. If the barrier wasn’t magical, then it had to be electrical, especially if Megavolt was here. Sometimes she wondered about Dark.  
  
“Hey, Mister Terror that Flaps in His Underwear!” Megavolt called from over the studio walls. They looked up.  
  
“I don’t even wear underwear!” Darkwing cried, outraged.  
  
“And that wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t blanketed the city,” Morgana grumbled.  
  
“That was more than I needed to know,” Megavolt said. He shook his head, perhaps to clear the disturbing image from his mind. “Anyway, you’re not getting in here, Darkwing Dork. Tuskerninni and I have the entire studio under lockdown.”  
  
“Why are you working with  _him_?” Darkwing asked. “He’s a two-bit villain at best.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Megavolt said. He was sitting on the roof of one of the nearby buildings with his legs dangling over the side. “But the amount of juice this place puts out is insane.”  
  
“So you’re just the decoy…” Darkwing mused. “Where’s Tuskernini?”  
  
Megavolt shrugged. “Don’t ask me. He was rooting around in the Gizmoduck movie production the last time I saw him.”  
  
Darkwing Duck hit the roof, proverbially speaking. He sputtered in outrage, hopping up and down and if it hadn’t been for Morgana’s quick thinking, the Ratcatcher would’ve fallen to the ground and possibly gotten scratched. The shorter male duck was bursting with fury and jealousy. She wondered whether she should get out the ruler.  
  
“Gizmoduck?!” Darkwing cried. “Since when does he get a movie? Since when is he good enough for a movie?”  
  
“Beats me,” Megavolt said and shrugged again. “If you ask me, you got robbed.”  
  
“I did!” Darkwing said. “How dare they make a movie about him and not about me! I’m insulted! My fanbase will be up in arms!”  
  
“Darkwing Duck!” Gizmoduck called, flying in and landing beside him. “I’m so glad you’re here. I mean, I probably could’ve taken Megavolt by myself, but it’s been a rough week with all the supervillains that keep popping up and--”  
  
He rushed forward and pumped Darkwing Duck’s hand. “I really appreciate the support.”  
  
“I’m not your support!” Darkwing snarled, wrenching his hand back. “And since when do you get a movie and I don’t? I ought to sue!”  
  
“What?” Gizmoduck said, staring blankly. “What movie? What are you talking about?”  
  
“You know darn well which movie I meant! You’re probably in on it!”  
  
“No...I’m not,” Gizmoduck said and appealed to Morgana. “Is he always like this?”  
  
“He is when it comes to you,” Morgana said and sighed.  
  
“Look, never mind that,” Gizmoduck said and shook his head. “There are people inside that studio that need our help.”  
  
Darkwing Duck hesitated, perhaps thinking that he didn’t want to share the glory with Gizmoduck. His ego wouldn’t take another battering. Megavolt was watching, eyes wide, and pulled out popcorn like this was his new favorite TV show. Morgana wanted to bang her head into a wall.  
  
“You’re a superhero!” Morgana snapped at Darkwing.  
  
“Fine, but stay back,” he snapped at Gizmoduck. “You might get some blood on you. And I’d hate to see you dent that pretty suit of yours.”  
  
“Okay...I’m confused. I never did anything to you,” Gizmoduck said. “What is your problem with me?”  
  
“This town isn’t big enough for two superheroes,” Darkwing retorted.  
  
“You don’t even live here!” Gizmoduck retorted. “You live in St. Canard!”  
  
“I can handle Duckburg and St. Canard all by myself,” Darkwing snapped.  
  
“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty,” Morgana said, shaking her head. “Can we please get to why we’re here?”  
  
Megavolt cackled, springing to his feet and pointing at a ray gun at them. “That’s right! Prepare to meet your doom!”  
  
Morgana sighed. If Darkwing could ever stop picking on Gizmoduck, maybe they’d stand a chance of being able to defeat Megavolt, enter the studio, take down Tuskernini, and save the people trapped within McDuck Studios. Right now, though, it seemed like it would take a miracle for Darkwing’s ego to deflate enough to allow Gizmoduck to help him. Why was it always a contest between them?  
  
Maybe her mental image from earlier wasn’t too far off. She rolled her eyes. In for a penny, in for a pound.

* * *

  
  
Magica de Spell ought to have known better than to confront Morgana Macawber in any form. She was far too weak to hold her own and it showed. Now, shuddering, she cast about for her brother. He had better not have changed sides on her. Bereft of anything else, she’d decided to gather her strength within Mrs. Beakley, who was preparing for the voyage she would never take.  
  
She had snatched the woman’s consciousness away from her with ease and had chosen to hole up underground (not literally, of course) in a place Scrooge McDuck and his cohorts couldn’t find. It helped that there was villainous activity elsewhere in Duckburg because it distracted the others. This wouldn’t be enough, however. She could feel her slip on Mrs. Beakley slipping, not due to the woman fighting back, but because Magica’s tenuous hold on the situation was faltering.  
  
And, truth be told, she was terrified she might disappear into oblivion or be stuck in the shadow realm. Then she’d have to find someone susceptible to the shadow realm or curious about its conditions and manipulate them into coming back. There was a little girl named Violet Sabrewing, but Magica could tell the girl hewed to the light and would be a tough nut to crack.  
  
She needed a plan better than using Poe to get Scrooge’s lucky dime. She needed a corporeal form again. This pathetic interlude couldn’t last forever and besides, she had grown sick and tired of wearing Mrs. Beakley’s skin. The woman was pathetic, upset that she’d repulsed her precious would-be granddaughter and her friends. Webbigail Vanderquack was not even related to her. Who cared what a stupid orphan thought? As far as Magica was concerned, Webby was only useful in that she’d freed Magica and Lena from Scrooge’s clutches.  
  
She felt like she spent more time stewing than accomplishing anything. That had to change. Springing to her feet, she cast her magical senses about, this time careful to do it underneath the radar. Hmm. She had a thought, one which had appeal, though it would complicate matters later on once her cover was blown.  
  
She could kill Mrs. Beakley within her own mind. Scrooge would have no way of knowing that his housekeeper had vanished and she could use that to take the dime. And once Magica regained her corporeal form, she would have no use for this sad sack of bones.  
  
Or she could locate another source of magic. Her body was bound up in the dime, however. But she’d need the alternate magic link to be able to defeat Beakley once and for all. At her current strength, all she could do was push her aside. She couldn’t kill her.  
  
Mrs. Beakley wasn’t paying attention to her thoughts, which she should have been. Then again, Magica had been thorough in squashing her down today.  
  
There were ley lines beneath Duckburg, magical currents that could be accessed, even by a mundane body like this. Mount Vesuvius had been a magical hotspot and, more importantly, it was where her lair was. She yearned for it—perhaps if she could convince Poe to steal the dime and bring it to her in Italy, she might be able to shed this body. But if she couldn’t get Poe to help, she’d have to go to Italy instead and then return to the United States and Duckburg.  
  
It was workable. Magica need not use Beakley’s funds, either. She had her own assets locked down that she could retrieve to fly to Italy. Of course, she couldn’t fly there directly. That would be too obvious. No, she’d have to take a circuitous route.  
  
But it would work, she was convinced. After all, Scrooge McDuck expected Mrs. Beakley to be out of the country and she would be. She wouldn’t be reachable.  
  
But could she control the body for that long without Beakley resurfacing and alerting others to her plot? That was a serious question. She’d need to tap into a ley line here first and then fly to Italy. Now, where were the magical currents in Duckburg?  
  
Anything Scrooge owned would be imbued with his own brand of magic, the one that he didn’t believe existed. It was like his dime—his dedication and effort had transformed it into a magical item. But there had to be other places of magic.  
  
Was she thinking too small? Duckburg was an option, obviously, and one she knew passably well considering that Scrooge McDuck had made it his home. However, it wasn’t the only option. Morgana hailed from St. Canard and there were a number of freaks there that argued for the existence of magic. It might be more replete with power than Duckburg.  
  
Her mind thus made up, she sifted through Beakley’s mind to see whether there was anything relevant she needed to know before departing. The older woman seemed to be either brooding or conserving her strength, presumably to confront Magica. It was laughable. Magica smiled.  
  
She needn’t worry about fighting back. She’d be dead before then. Either way, if Poe retrieved the dime or he didn’t, she’d kill Beakley. She was a loose end that Magica didn’t need. Once that was done, if she had the time, she’d lure Lena in and kill her too. Shadows had an annoying habit of disobeying her. She remembered one time that a shadow of hers had attempted to gain sentience and turn her into the weak one. That had been before Lena, too. Perhaps it was foreshadowing things to come.  
  
Well, no matter. Lena would be dead but after Mrs. Beakley. And then, well, the world would bow at her feet. Eventually. She’d work her way up to that.  
  
Cheered immensely, she ignored Beakley rallying and tried to decide where that bird would have gone if he had flown over Duckburg.  
  
She wandered all over Duckburg to no avail. She didn’t know where her brother had gone or what plans he was hatching, but if he hoped to survive transforming back into his normal form, he’d do what she wanted or else.  
  


* * *

  
  
Scrooge McDuck was, as Magica had presumed, otherwise occupied. He frowned at the talking raven on his desk and then looked at Lena, Webby, and Gosalyn. He had caught them about to leave the manor when the security system was down and something about Webby’s furtive movements had tipped him off. As Gosalyn had warned her, Webby was a terrible liar. It hadn’t taken Scrooge long to sniff out the truth. Unfortunately, learning about it hadn’t helped him very much.  
  
“So ye want me number one dime to turn back into yer normal self,” Scrooge said, frowning as he studied the raven. “How do I know ye’re not gonna double-cross me and return to Magica?”  
  
“You don’t,” Lena said flatly. She was leaning against the far wall with her arms folded across her chest. The teenager regarded the raven sullenly. Any friend of Magica’s was an enemy of hers.  
  
“I know it sounds desperate, but what choice do we have?” Poe said.  
  
“You could stay a raven,” Gosalyn retorted and Webby shot her a look. Gosalyn shrugged. “Or Morgana can turn him back. You don’t need the dime for that.”  
  
“Aye,” Scrooge agreed. “Ye donnae need the dime for that. If we can  _find_  Morgana, that is.”  
  
“There’s too much magical interference to figure out where she is, even if she was within locating distance,” Lena said. “And Magica blipped off my radar.”  
  
“That’s because Agent 22’s gone on the cruise, right, Uncle Scrooge?” Webby said, unable to keep the plaintive tone from her voice.  
  
“She should’ve,” he agreed.  
  
“Should have, but I doubt it,” Lena said. “Since when does Magica do what’s expected of her?”  
  
“We donnae have any proof to the contrary,” Scrooge replied.  
  
Lena rolled her eyes. “Absence of proof doesn’t mean it’s true.”  
  
In a softer tone, she added, “Besides. We don’t actually know what’s going on with her grandmother.”  
  
“You don’t think Magica’s taken over, do you?” Webby asked, anxious. Lena frowned and stepped closer to Webby. She squeezed her shoulder, though the motion looked awkward as if Lena was just learning how to comfort people.  
  
“I don’t know, pink.”  
  
Scrooge winced. He heard what Lena wasn’t saying. Lena was lying to ease the situation. She didn’t believe Beakley was in control anymore, but she didn’t want to freak Webby out further by admitting it.  
  
“She hasn’t answered her phone since she left,” Webby said.  
  
“She’s probably too busy relaxing,” Gosalyn said, though it was with the same note that Lena had spoken. The two girls exchanged glances behind Webby’s back.  
  
“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings, you guys,” Webby said sadly. “You think Agent 22’s gone off the deep end.”  
  
“There probably won’t be any service until she reaches a port,” Scrooge suggested. “Why don’t we reserve judgment until then?”  
  
“Other than possessing her, she can’t actually do any harm to 22, can she?” Webby asked, turning her gaze upon Lena. Lena cringed. It was answer enough.  
  
“I don’t know, Webby,” Lena lied. The teenager looked desperate to escape this situation and he almost couldn’t blame her. Webby was gazing at Lena, but Lena was staring at the floor.  
  
“You know she can, don’t you?” Webby asked gently, not critical of her friend despite her falsehoods.  
  
“Magica’s weak right now,” Lena said and it was a dodge. “She probably can’t do any real damage.”  
  
“‘Probably’ isn’t good enough,” Webby said. “Can she or can’t she?”  
  
“You don’t want me to answer that.”  
  
“Webby,” Gosalyn said, interrupting to break the tension. “Why don’t we find Morgana and Dad first? Once we have, she can track Magica down.”  
  
“But we don’t know where to look!” Webby protested.  
  
“If there’s trouble in Duckburg and Gizmoduck hasn’t handled it by now, then Darkwing Duck is probably here too,” Gosalyn reasoned. “And you know how much Dad hates the idea of Gizmoduck taking all the glory.”  
  
“So we need to figure out where the power outage is,” Webby mused.  
  
“Once we’re close enough, if Morgana’s with him, I’ll be able to sense her,” Lena offered.  
  
“Ye’re not going alone, not if this is too much for Gizmoduck. Launchpad and I will come too,” Scrooge decided.  
  
Lena’s gaze flicked to the necklace about Scrooge’s neck and her frown deepened as she glanced from him to Poe and back. Poe’s matter wasn’t settled, so he’d have to accompany them. Unfortunately, what they had was as good a plan as any. Onward, then.


End file.
